


Like Home

by skysedge



Category: Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Girls Being Soft, Light Angst, Post-Canon, Reunions, Self-Doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:15:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25804234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skysedge/pseuds/skysedge
Summary: It’s taken Primrose a long time to visit S’warkii.
Relationships: Primrose Azelhart/H'aanit
Comments: 6
Kudos: 43
Collections: femslashficlets: tarot prompt challenge





	Like Home

It’s taken Primrose a long time to visit S’warkii. 

She’s been drifting for months as if in a dream. It’s strange; now that it’s over, she can see not just the sorrow in everything but the joy too. It’s as if she’s viewing the world with new eyes and so she can’t, she won’t, settle in any one place. She’s passed through the lives of her erstwhile companions, shared drinks with the boys, let Tressa talk her into buying Rippletide souvenirs, gently teased Ophilia until they were both helpless with laughter. None of them had been expecting her to visit and each _it’s so good to see you_ has left her both grateful and guilty. 

She had only promised to visit one person. The person she hasn’t yet gone to see. 

It’s easy to make excuses. The village is too hard to reach, she doesn’t want to bother the hunters, a person like her won’t fit in somewhere like that anyway. But she had managed to reach Cobbleston in the Highlands. She had taken evening out of Alfyn’s busy work schedule. A person like her doesn’t fit _anywhere_ , or that’s how she feels. Maybe she just doesn’t know what sort of person she is anymore. And that’s it really, the real reason she has put off visiting S’warkii for so long. 

She’s afraid to hope she might find answers. 

This fear twists her stomach as she enters the village at last. The moon is high. She treads softly through the dark, her pale skin and fluttering dress making her appear more like a ghost in the night than a nervous girl who was too afraid to visit during the day. She moves soundlessly past the buildings, following directions given to her months before. There are no lights in the windows when she arrives. She stands before the door in silence. 

She shouldn’t be here. Not like this. H’aanit deserves better. But Primrose's hands tremble in excitement as well as fear. Oh how she _misses_ her. Her calm voice, her measured words, her dependable smile. The way she’s honest and true. The simple warmth of her company. 

Primrose takes a breath and knocks at the door. Less than a dozen heartbeats later the door is pulled open. H’aanit is just as she remembers, tall and wild, the green of her eyes glittering sharp in the darkness. She had clearly been expecting an emergency. Primrose watches as the edge fades from her expression and she softens all at once with realisation, her lips curving into a warm smile. 

“Primrose,” she says gently. “Thou art here.” 

_I’ve been expecting you._ H’aanit doesn’t need to say it. Primrose offers a small smile. 

“Yes, I suppose I am,” she murmurs. “I’m sorry it’s been...” 

H’aanit stops her speaking by reaching out and placing one long finger against her lips. 

“Tis late,” she says, reaching out to take Primrose’s hand. “Thou sholdst rest.” 

“But...” 

She isn’t given a chance to argue. H’aanit’s hold is gentle but firm as she guides Primrose inside the house, closing the door behind them. Primrose breathes in deep, inhales the scents H’aanit has always carried with her; leather and wood oil, smoke and grass. The house is little more than a cabin, embers flowing dimly in the hearth,far from a mansion in Noblecourt. 

It feels safe. It feels like home. 

As if sensing she needs time, H’aanit gives her hand a squeeze and crosses the room to lay back on her bed of furs. Primrose hesitates, looking towards the low bench by the fire. 

“Is here okay?” she asks, turning in surprise when H’aanit laughs. “What?” 

H’aanit wordlessly gets back to her feet and takes Primrose’s hand again, pulls her back to the bed. 

“We canst talken tomorrow,” she says. “Now...” 

Primrose is unable to resist the way she’s urged to lay down on the bed, H’aanit warm and soft at her back, their hands still joined and one arm looping around her waist. 

“Rest,” H’aanit insists. 

This is what she’s been afraid of. Not the easy closeness, not the lack of conversation, not the assumptions that this is what she wants. It’s _exactly_ what she wants. That’s why it’s terrifying. She had never imagined this is how things would be. 

When she was a little girl, she had been sure her future was scented like the roses in the garden and wrapped in poems of innocent love. Then she had been certain her future was covered in heavy black clouds, the reek of blood and the light sound of her bare feet on floorboards. There had only been the goal, no ‘after’ to consider, no future to speak of. 

H’aanit had presented a future she had never dreamed of. One where she can feel safe and valued, one where she doesn’t have to explain herself, one where she can be held and cherished without any demands being made of her. One she hadn’t thought existed for anyone, least of all herself. 

She doesn’t know where they’ll go from here. This could be all of it, casual closeness for comfort and then parting ways. Or this could be the start of something more, something she has words to explain but which far exceeds any of them. 

Tomorrow they’ll talk. She knows that H’aanit won’t ask her for anything she won’t want to give. It’ll be her choice. Having that choice, for once in her life, is surreal. But it’s hard to be frightened when she’s being held so tenderly. She hesitantly runs her thumb along H’aanit’s knuckles, her heart fluttering when the gesture is returned. 

“H’aanit?” she whispers. 

“Mm?” 

“...thank you.” 

H’aanit doesn’t answer in words. Instead, Primrose feels her press a light kiss to her shoulder and warmth begins to spread through her body at the touch. And it’s enough. For now, it’s everything she needs. 

It’s taken her a long time to visit. As she closes her eyes, she wonders how long it will be before she leaves. 

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: _The Star - Time to pause and reflect, contemplate what's precious and what's not._
> 
> First drabble for this fandom ahh... I've fallen hard for this game and I can't get up. 
> 
> Hit me up @_zenbee on twitter.


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